Ellis Nichols, Cryogenic Chamber Technician – Personal log.

Day 2

You’d think there’d be a better way to transport all these people. Stacked up and subjected to the rigours of thrust as Earth recedes into the distance, their bodies, slack and unconscious, becoming distorted, misshapen, a disfigured abomination of the perfection and purity we’re supposed to be carrying to a new Eden.

As I wander these cold corridors, staring through the frosting glass at the blank, drooling faces, I find it hard to believe that any God would want to make us in this image. Who knows the effects of long-term space-flight? Already this human cargo is bruising; microscopic tears in the blood vessels under the skin caused by the initial blast-off from Earth has caused hypostasis under the g-force of the gradual acceleration. They’re a bloody mess, our human cargo.

As I watched our planet recede on the viewscreen it became obvious how utterly alone we were in the cosmos, and now a fraction of our number have been sent blasting through space in a metal tube, to sleep until we find somewhere to replace the verdant land we destroyed. Staring down at the silent faces, I receive no encouragement for the future, no hope that we can make it to somewhere we can start again and maybe learn from our mistakes. There is no relief in those blank features from the morbidity in my soul that’s spreading like the pooling blood beneath the unliving under my watch.

I must turn the viewscreen forward, try to make out what is out there, to discover a bright future in the emptiness of the universe.


What is this?

This is the game: Epistolary.

Myself and two others are constructing a story over on RPGGeek. These are just my bits. I am hoping they get a bit mental.

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